


Idiot Son-in-Law of Mine

by mt_lyfe



Series: Compendium of Inane Drabbles [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Crack, Don't copy to another site, Humor, Idiots in Love, M/M, Oblivious Derek Hale, Oblivious Stiles Stilinski, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-30
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:02:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27789436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mt_lyfe/pseuds/mt_lyfe
Summary: There are some things that close friends will do together and some, even super close friends won't do. John gave birth to an idiot and said idiot has found a matching idiot partner. They just have to figure it out first.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Compendium of Inane Drabbles [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899214
Comments: 16
Kudos: 243





	Idiot Son-in-Law of Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Word Soup](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5875648) by [DiscontentedWinter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiscontentedWinter/pseuds/DiscontentedWinter). 



> Okay, the story that inspired this is (Chapter 47) amazing and I died laughing. Then I quickly found out I NEEDED MORE OF THIS IN MY LIFE. So I tried.

_Chirp, chirp, chirp._ That’s the high-pitched sounds of birds singing outside his bedroom window ruining his Sunday morning plans to sleep in. Whose bright idea was it to plant a tree outside his window? The landscape architect should be flayed.

Stiles groans as he twists over onto his stomach and sticks his head under his pillow, trying to muffle the sound of birds who don’t know the meaning of sleeping in. The soft sheets below him feel heavenly against his bare skin, but he finds that he’s been flailing in his sleep again and has ended up on the edge of the bed, blankets half covering his right side, leaving his left half and bare ass exposed to the cold. It’s freezing in his apartment; the heater has been working intermittently and he hasn’t gotten around to getting it checked.

He twists again so he can avoid the sunlight glaring into his eyes from the crack through his curtains and simultaneously burrow back into the warmth and safety of his blankets. His face bumps against a solid bare chest. Oh right, Derek stayed the night yesterday.

The wolf often did stay over the weekend and Stiles couldn’t very well offer his crappy couch when it was small and lumpy, and he couldn’t take the couch himself when he was six-feet tall. He was very human and therefore susceptible to back and neck pain! He had a perfectly good bed, big enough to fit two, so the sensible thing of course, was to share.

Derek grumbled in his sleep and threw an arm around Stiles’ hip to avoid it getting crushed. Then he dragged Stiles’ pliant body closer and the wolf bodily rearranged them both so that they each had a leg slotted in between each other’s thighs and they could snuggle closer together to share heat.

He pressed his face into Derek’s warm skin and gave a small sigh of content. It was bliss to be warm again.

Derek wasn’t wearing any underwear and the wild curls of his public hair tickled Stiles’ hip. The wolf didn’t like to wear many layers in bed and who was he to deny a guest? Stiles wasn’t shy, and he would be damned if he couldn’t sleep how he wanted in his own house, so in the end, they both slept in the nude.

“Jesus, you’re cold,” Derek groused sounding still mostly asleep. He dragged his palms down Stiles’ bare back, down to his hips and came to a rest on the swell of his ass. Stiles felt like a dwarf in comparison to Derek’s large strong hands as they rubbed and massaged his butt cheeks, trying to get the blood flowing again.

Stiles loved it when Derek gave him back rubs. The wolf’s hands should be calloused from working out everyday, but they’re soft, firm, and soothing on his skin. It might be the werewolf healing factor. Stiles nestled closer.

Derek is finally satisfied with Stiles’ body temperature despite knowing that humans run several degrees cooler than werewolves and settles his hands curling on the back of Stiles’ thigh, thumb resting under the swell of his ass, thumbing lazy circles.

It’s Derek’s day off as well. He makes a regular appearance at Stiles’ place on the weekends to watch a movie and gorge on takeout together. There’s a Chinese place close by that does a dinnertime special and it makes his guilt lessen when it’s two people eating the set-menu for six.

It makes sense financially since ordering separate dishes costs more and economically when Stiles doesn’t have to drive to the grocery store. Even better is when he doesn’t have to leave the house for another week.

Stiles often forgot that the outside world existed when he worked from home and it became Derek’s job to come over at the end of the week, drag him out of his working stupor and remind him to get some sunlight. So they ended up splitting the takeout. It worked out great. When it got too late for Derek to drive home, he’d spend the night.

Later on when they finally rolled out of bed and have had a lazy breakfast, they’re sprawled on the lumpy couch with Stiles’ head on Derek’s lap since wolves like to cuddle and Stiles is all for making each other smell like pack.

Stiles is fidgety by nature and his hands have to be constantly occupied, so when Derek confiscates the remote because he can’t settle on a movie, Stiles’ hand zeros in on the treasure trail peeking out under Derek’s shirt, twisting and pulling on the coarse dark hairs as a way to keep himself busy.

Derek keeps his eyes on the TV flicking through movies. Stiles’ hand has decided they’d like to explore further and have slipped their way into Derek’s pants to fondle idly on Derek’s soft dick as the other reaches for the bowl of popcorn by his stomach.

They settled on a movie neither of them has had the chance to go to the theatres to see and it’s finally made its way onto Netflix. Sundays are the best time to check off movies on their to-watch list.

Derek’s hand that isn’t keeping the remote control away from Stiles’ grabby hands is on his back, rubbing circles and occasionally grabbing some popcorn. Stiles hasn’t put on anything except boxers since it’s his house and his lazy Sunday rules.

The hand trails down to slip under his waistband and Derek’s hand is massaging his butt again just as absentmindedly.

Stiles doesn’t mind, personal space is something that doesn’t exist for werewolves and that’s something Stiles has gotten used to with Derek a long time ago. Besides, Stiles frequently sticks his hand down his own pants just to warm up his hands because his apartment is _freezing._ He’s found out that his lower body gives off _a lot_ of heat. It’s a great idea.

Derek’s finger traces his crack and lingers over his hole, pressing down on the muscle from time to time but doesn’t penetrate before going back to kneading his ass. Derek also has a fidgeting habit, Stiles can completely understand that. He’s sure that Derek likes to play with soft bits as well, since, fair, that guy doesn’t have a single inch of fat in his ripped werewolf hunk of a body, and Stiles has a pretty decent bubble butt. He’s not going to complain if he gets a massage out of it. All-in-all, it’s a routine Sunday for the two of them.

Scott comes bursting through the front door which Stiles didn’t bother to lock last night because who would be dumb enough to rob his apartment when there’s an alpha werewolf staying over. The other wolf stops short at the sight.

“What the hell you two!”

Oh, oops. He just remembered that he had promised Scott and his father a late Sunday lunch.

“I thought you would tell me if you two started dating!”

What? “We aren’t dating Scotty!”

Derek makes a choked-off noise and the finger that’s been brushing against his hole slips in.

Stiles flinches. Oh. His hand is still in between Derek’s legs and he may have squeezed a little harder because he’s starting to get mad that Scott thinks he’s been keeping secrets. But they’re really not dating! He wouldn’t lie to his best friend!

“...Then you’re just fucking?”

“No! We’re not doing that either,” Derek growls out.

“I would have told you Scotty. We’ve known each other since kindergarten!” Stiles is glaring at Scott for not believing him and Scott has a wide-eyed open-mouthed speechless looking face gaping back at Stiles.

“Derek’s hand is on your ass,” Scott says weakly.

“He has bad blood circulation,” Derek defends himself.

“What’s taking so lo— oh.” Stiles’ father has entered the apartment too. The Sheriff takes one look at their positions on the couch and then at Scott’s fish face.

Before Stiles can start defending his actions again, the sheriff says to Scott, “don’t bother. I’ve been telling him for the longest time that sleeping naked together isn’t purely ‘a wolf thing.’ If catching them with their hand down each other’s pants isn’t going to make my dumb kid and just as dumb future son-in-law get a clue, nothing else you say will. Just wait, they’ll figure it out eventually.”

Oh. Stiles’ hand is indeed down Derek’s pants. That’s not regular friendship behaviour, is it?

**Author's Note:**

> Butt massages do help with one type of blood circulation *wink wink*
> 
> [my tumblr](https://mtlyfe.tumblr.com) If you want to chat.


End file.
